Gule Disgohnihi
by Zaedah
Summary: Abe: He must be allowed to grieve as he chooses. We can not spare him that.” Please see Epalladino's amazing works for '1949' insights.


I do not own the characters presented, nor any other comic book mutant. Although that big right hand must be handy when opening pickle jars... Title: Mourning Dove in Cherokee.

**Gule Disgohnihi**

Loneliness. The blanket that had covered Liz Sherman since her earliest memory sought to suffocate her tonight. Having died last night, she was almost grateful to be able to experience anything at all. Her visitors had been sporadic, all concerned with her recovery. One presence tended to hover nearby in her sleep, but was always gone in her wakeful states. She missed the feeling of his closeness terribly, which made the loneliness all the more acute.

The last four days had seen the murder of her dear teacher, her own temporary death and very nearly the end of the world. The only thing that stood between life and the Apocalypse was a demon born in hell and crafted to bring death. The right hand of doom, they had called Hellboy, vocalizing in that title the purpose of his existence. Liz could still hear John Myers' description of the events she had missed. Hellboy had succumbed to the calling of the evil ones, as they dangled her soul over him. Yet the reminder of his beloved father pulled him back from the darkness, just as he would later coax her back from the other side.

Such a contradiction, as everything about Hellboy tended to be. He was destined to destroy; yet in her, he had created… confusion and peace, fear and love. These opposing emotions lived in her heart, the heart that now longed for his presence to banish the loneliness they both knew so well.

Gingerly, Liz slipped from her recovery bed, dressed with urgency and left in search of the one she needed. The journey to his converted vault had been easy on her healed body, and the late hour had rendered no souls on the way. Hellboy would be locked in by now, the Bureau ever concerned about his discovery and in truth fearful of him. Not that the restraints on the door could hold him; he'd proven that in the past. But Hellboy usually complied for the sake of his father… Fresh tears stung her eyes at the recollection of the professor. Her soul ached for the devastation she knew would be tearing Hellboy apart. He'd bitten it back yesterday; resolve to avenge the murder retaining his focus in Russia. But now?

The vault entrance came into sight and she immediately halted. The massive door the Bureau routinely closed him behind was swung open, as if still waiting for the occupant.

"He's not here," a quiet voice explained and Liz jumped, spinning to find Abe Sapien lingering in a corner. The water device at his gills allowed him to stand here with her comfortably. She could see the bubbles floating in the plastic tubes as he approached.

"Where is he?" She did not bother to mask her worry.

"Likely? On the roof." The fishman deduced, offering nothing further as he began to turn away.

"Abe?" She called to stop him. "Can you feel him?' He nodded and she moved closer. "Tell me?"

"Perhaps he should be questioned, rather than me?" Abe ventured meekly.

Liz shook her head. "He won't confide in me. You know that. I just…want to be prepared when I find him."

Abe digested her reasoning, then sighed. "He hates when I'm in his head. Trust issues, you know. So I can only say what is already known outwardly."

She nodded her reluctant acceptance of his terms and Abe's shiny black eyes seemed to bore into her as he spoke.

"He is much like he was after immediately following the professor's death. Can't eat, can't sleep, can't talk." Liz noted he said can't, not won't as she had days ago. It seemed an important difference, though she couldn't place why. "But now it's far worse. Even one without my gift can sense the guilt burying him."

Liz stepped away as though his words harmed her physically. "Guilt?" Could he possibly place blame on himself for recent events?

Abe noticed her despair, but moved forward. "You had asked me if you should stay… with him. I did not answer directly. I will now." He raised a webbed hand to her shoulder. "If you love him, and I believe you do, you must stay."

Covering his hand with hers, Liz ignored the tears now dripping slowly. "I couldn't imagine leaving him now… or ever." Taking a deep breath, Liz plunged ahead. "And I do love him." Once spoken, she knew the words could not be recanted and it felt entirely right.

Abe smiled, as much as his face would allow. "Just remember, he must be allowed to grieve as he chooses. We can not spare him that."

Nodding, Liz hurried from the corridor and headed for the stairwell. Four floors upward and she reached the exit to the roof. What she beheld frightened her more than Agent Myers' explanation of events. Darkness. She could sense a tangible darkness shrouding the red demon. However, it was a black grief that surrounded him, not the evil dark Rasputin had stirred within him. But at the edges, that was present also.

Hellboy stood precisely where he had after Professor Broom's death. Liz remembered the sorrow she'd felt as she looked up at him, the rain falling hard as the hearse pulled away, taking his father where he could not follow. The same crushing sadness enveloped her now as it radiated from him, prompting her feet to move through the doorway and to his side. Standing as straight as he, Liz announced to the dark night that it could not have him. Hellboy failed to acknowledge her arrival, the starless sky holding his gaze. The breeze lifted her bangs from her face as she took in the black t-shirt, leather pants and work boots he wore. But the grave expression on his features was completely unfamiliar. Solemn and distant, two things she couldn't recall ever seeing. His horns, still rough from being forcefully broken off, seemed to match his mood; jagged and splintered. Her body longed for the closeness of yesterday's kiss, but he seemed so untouchable.

The soft coo of a mourning dove floated from somewhere below. It broke the silence, granting her permission to do the same.

"Where are you tonight?" Her hand stole to his left arm, the tense muscles greeting her skin.

His eyes closed briefly, as though her voice had disrupted something infinitely personal. "1949," he whispered, to her confusion.

Unsure if that was meant to answer her question, Liz tightened her grip on him. "Good year?"

"No," he spoke firmly, then appeared to reconsider, adding softly, "Yes."

Quick math told her he'd have been 5 human years old in 1949. "Tell me?" The request was meek, unpressing. Unconsciously, she began caressing his forearm but he stepped away from her touch.

"You should be resting," he instructed to signal the conversation's end.

She'd slept most of the day to recover her stolen strength, but his lifeless golden eyes displayed the extent of his own exhaustion. More than that, they showed the guilt Abe warned her about.

"I'll rest again," she assured him, "when you do." The challenge was stated with gentle conviction.

"Later." It was simultaneously a brush-off and a promise.

She was undeterred. "Now, Red."

The tiny human tugged on his massive arm to show her persistence and he merely looked down at the offending hand. She was rewarded with the slightest grin and smiled back, aware of the futile pulling. All too soon his smile faded and she missed it immediately.

"I'm alright, Liz," he whispered, eyes downcast.

Raising a hand to his face, her skin pulsed with electricity at the contact. Swallowing hard against the quickening of her pulse, Liz forced his gaze to hers. "You're not. And you're not expected to be."

The simple truth seemed to reach him, his left hand finding her hip and moving her fractionally closer. Her small hand slid behind his head, pulling him down to her waiting lips. Hesitating inches from her mouth, Hellboy warred within himself before coming to a decision. Deciphering the hidden desire in his eyes, Liz leaned up and kissed him hotly. Her certainty of his feelings for her made chasteness unnecessary and she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Accepting the appendage, he deepened the kiss, holding her as close to him as he could without hurting her. Her arms locked around his neck, refusing to let him pull away. Of course, when he did a moment later, her paltry strength could not stop him. Though he did not speak, he also did not move away from her embrace.

"Come to bed," she whispered, watching for his reaction to the clear invitation.

Hellboy, in turn, studied her for a moment before giving an almost imperceptible nod. Amazed by his acquiesce, Liz reached down to grasp his left hand, leading him from the roof. The two were silent as they made their way down the stairs. Turning the corner to his room they found Manning and a small army awaiting their arrival. Liz could feel Hellboy tense at their presence.

"What's all this?" Liz's anger at the view rose. Her Red should not be forced into such confinement. Especially tonight.

Chief Manning stayed safely tucked behind the line of armed men. "We were about to come for you, Hellboy."

Fighting the temper-fueled retorts in her mind, Liz maintained an outer calm. "We needed time."

"Which you've had." Manning eyes the door behind him, gesturing his intent. "Agent Cohen, escort Miss Sherman back to her room."

When Hellboy released her hand in compliance, Liz felt a flash of possessiveness she hadn't known existed. "_We_ are going in, thank you."

Reclaiming Hellboy's hand, Liz began to lead them past the gathered agents. She'd have to ponder Hellboy's lack of customary fury at this situation later. Right now, she had enough for them both. Suddenly Manning reached out a hand to stop her from entering the room, gripping her arm roughly. And Liz could almost hear Hellboy's control snap beside her. Before she could speak, the sight of Manning's feet dangling in the air met her eyes. The older man's neck was encased in a red-skinned hand. Possession ran both ways, she noted somewhere in the rising panic.

"Red!" Myers shouted from the hall behind them. Always late to the party, Liz mused fleetingly. The agents, and their various weapons, were silent, as though in reverence to the beast who saved mankind from annihilation. Or perhaps recognizing that he could eliminate them all right here.

"No Red," Myers yelled again. Liz could see Manning fighting for breath and failing. Fear began a slow churn within her as she took in a sinister shadow clouding the demon's yellow eyes. There was no rage in Hellboy's glare, but rather a vicious calm, as though resigned to the darkness by the urging of other forces. It was a look Myers saw when Hellboy had surrendered to Rasputin's will. He would kill the man in his grasp and Liz thanked the Professor for constantly drilling into H.B.'s head to not use his right hand if avoidable. Manning would have been dead already. She knew she alone could stop him from finishing this.

"H.B.?" She called quietly, reaching up on tiptoe to cover the hand that strangled the life from Manning. The contact, like the rosary, seemed to burn his skin and bring him back to the present. Hellboy released Manning, who crumpled with a sickening thud on the floor. Agents rushed to their boss's aid as Liz pushed her love through the vault door. Myers followed, stopping at the intricate locking system to address her.

"Maybe you shouldn't…" he started.

"He needs me, John."

Nodding, Myers took position to seal the door, but added, "I'll lock this door, but if you need…"

"He would never hurt me," Liz said adamantly.

Abe came into view behind Myers. "Liz, you must help him lock down this darkness in him. And remember what I said about the guilt." Liz nodded her understanding, knowing the warning went against Abe's code of secrecy.

Myers slammed the door into place and Liz turned to find Hellboy standing at the window, both stone and flesh hands curled into fists at his sides. The muscles of his broad shoulders rippled with tension and she began to fear for the safety of the vault walls should his restraint collapse. As she stood apart from him, her eyes were riveted to his large frame; the raw power emanating from him excited her in strange ways. Her skin jumped to life as she recalled the kiss on the roof. But there could be no repeating just yet.

"Talk to me, Red." She remained at the door, sensing a closer proximity would not be welcome.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as though not trusting himself to speak. Liz walked to the bed, slipped off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. Extending a hand to him, Liz peered up at him through lowered lashes.

"Lie down with me." It was not a request.

Smiling, she watched his approach, appreciative of the predatory way he moved. Not lumbering, as one of his size should. Rather, it was dangerous with an undercurrent of protection. A moment before his left hand was to touch hers, he halted then retreated from her. The rejection struck her hard.

"You shouldn't be here," he told her through clenched teeth, a hint of regret softening the harshness.

Refusing to let him dismiss her, Liz closed the space between them. "You don't want me here?" Her tone was just short of teasing. Make him deny it, she decided.

"I don't want you hurt." The pain in his voice startled here. Walking away from her, Hellboy returned to the vault's lone window. The loss of his closeness chilled her skin and she fleetingly wondered when she'd begun to crave it so deeply. Yet he thought he'd hurt her? Keeping her distance, she hoped her words would ease the concern.

"I have nothing to fear from you, H.B."

"Can Manning say the same?" He flexed his left hand in remembrance of its earlier activity.

"He shouldn't have grabbed me like that."

Hellboy turned to her, watching her intensely. "Would you be so quick to defend me if I'd killed him?"

This brought her rushing to his side. "You wouldn't have."

"You don't know that." He snapped, anger blazing his yellow eyes to gold.

"I know you!" Her hands rose to his chest, as if the contact would keep him there. "I know what you're physically capable of. But I also know what your heart won't let you do." Her right hand moved to linger over his heartbeat.

"Liz, when they…" he hesitated, taking a deep breath before starting again. "I don't know what I'm capable of now." His gaze dropped, as did his voice. "They showed me that."

"What else did they show you?" She practically begged the question, eyes brimming with long unshed tears. When he didn't answer, the tears felt free to fall. They took so much from him; his father, his trust in himself and possibly their chance at love.

"Come to bed," she repeated her initial previous request, but he shook his head. "Were you thinking about hurting me when Manning tried to do just that?"

"No," he admitted.

"Were you planning to kill me after bringing me back to life?"

"No."

"And when we were…"

"Liz," the warning was soft but clear but she continued undeterred.

"And when we were kissing?" her voice turned coy and she was rewarded by the slightest smile.

"No," he confirmed quietly.

The response told her Hellboy accepted… no, enjoyed their prior actions, which excited her beyond reason. Moving close, Liz took his hand once more, her eyes never leaving his.

"You haven't slept in five days. And I'm not resting without you. So the choice is clear, right?"

Hellboy squeezed her hand carefully. "Right."

He allowed her to lead him to back to the truck bed. Releasing his hand, Liz laid on the left side of the mattress, fully dressed and waiting. Hellboy watched her for a moment, obviously debating the wisdom of this choice. But overwhelming fatigue forced him to relent and he stretched his tall frame beside her. His left hand slid under the pillow, as if to protect her from it. Liz waited until he settled on his back before she scooted closer, laying her head on his chest. Expecting him to tense, she was surprised to catch his almost contented sigh. Letting that embolden her, Liz reached up, wrapped her small fingers around his wrist and tugged until he understood her unspoken request. Without argument, Hellboy rested his left hand on her hip, lightly pulling her to him. Her own left arm drew up across his chest and around his neck.

Rather than attempt sleep, she listened to his reassuring heartbeat under her ear. His breathing slowed incrementally, the weight of exhaustion finally claiming him. Her leg made its way between his and her body tingled with this new intimacy. As she lay entwined with him, Liz knew this was how life should be. Tightening her hold on him, she made a silent vow to never again sleep without him. Her days of running were done. She was home.


End file.
